


When Tooru Was Sick

by NinjaSpaz



Series: IwaOi Fluff Week [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: IwaOi Fluff Week, M/M, Oikawa gets sick, iwa is a good friend, just pure fluff, soft high school boys, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaSpaz/pseuds/NinjaSpaz
Summary: He sets his backpack down at the door and brings the shopping bag with him as he makes his way to the edge of the futon. “You better not be watching game tape while you’re sick,” he admonishes with a gentle flick to the setter’s forehead.Oikawa pouts and rubs the spot gingerly. “Mean, Iwa-chan. Where is your bedside manner? I’m dying here!”“You’re not gonna die from lack of attention, Shitykawa.”“You don’tknowthat, Iwa-chan!”-In which Oikawa comes down with a nasty bug and Iwaizumi is kind enough to bring him his missed classwork.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: IwaOi Fluff Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837429
Comments: 4
Kudos: 145
Collections: Iwaoi fluff week 2020





	When Tooru Was Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6: Baby | UFO | “Stay with me?” ~ “I’m here.”
> 
> Me, queen of titles and naming things, and this was the best I came up with. Shameful, but accurate.

In all the years Iwaizumi has been friends with Oikawa, he can count on one hand the number of times the setter has missed school due to illness. There was the time in elementary school when they had both gotten chicken pox at the same time. Aside from the itching and the mittens they had to wear to keep from itching and the smelly lotion, it was almost like a vacation. Their parents let them spend the week together since they already both had it and couldn’t infect anyone else. Then there was the Green Eggs Catastrophe in junior high. Iwa had refused to let Oikawa near a stove after that, and Oikawa didn’t really complain after his self-inflicted food poisoning, even if he was still a little mad that Iwa hadn’t even _tried_ his concoction. The only other time he’d missed was when he had that particularly aggressive allergic reaction to a mango in second year. They didn’t even know that was a thing until the doctors ran some allergy tests and determined the source of his anaphylaxis.

So, to say Iwaizumi is surprised when the door to the Oikawa residence opens and his best friend does not step out, is a bit of an understatement. He walks through the gate so Oikawa-san doesn’t have to come down from the porch. “Morning Auntie. Is Tooru running late this morning?” Her tired face sets off warning bells in his head.

“I’m sorry, Hajime,” she sighs. “It seems he caught that virus that’s going around. I caught him in the bathroom slumped over the toilet at about four this morning.” She shakes her head. “Silly boy was still up at six trying to get dressed and ready for school, but he was so delirious with fever I made him go back to bed.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi says. From what he’d heard from people who’d had it, it was brutal but brief. Oikawa would probably be good as new in another day or so, but Iwaizumi did not envy him. “Well then I’ll stop by after practice to drop off his homework.”

Oikawa-san patted his cheek with that smile all mothers seem to have. “Thank you, dear. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company when he’s more conscious too.”

“Right.” Iwaizumi didn’t really want to spend too much time around anyone who had this particular bug. “Well then, I’m off! Tell Tooru to get well for me!”

“Of course, Hajime. Have a good day at school!”

The solitary walk to practice is weird. Oikawa usually talks his ear off about the game tapes he stayed up way too late reviewing, or sharing the latest celebrity gossip from his Instagram feed, or complaining about a particularly annoying homework problem. Instead, Iwaizumi’s soundtrack is the birds in the trees, cars driving by on busy streets, dogs barking in yards. Those sounds have always been there, he supposes, but without the incessant chatter of his best friend they seem too loud.

That noisy quiet follows him all the way to school. It is present at practice, no shouts of “Iwa-chan, nice receive!” or teasing quips when he flubbed a spike from Yahaba. It isn’t that his teammates don’t praise him or tell him not to mind his mistakes, but the absence of one voice in particular just sets him on edge.

“Man, I never thought I’d miss Oikawa first thing in the morning.” Matsukawa rubs his forehead with the hem of his shirt as he takes his place in the lineup for spiking drills.

Hanamaki yawns behind him. “His energy usually annoys me but it really is like an extra shot of espresso to get me going through my day.”

Iwaizumi is grateful he’s not the only one feeling their captain’s absence. His lips curl up in a fond smile. He’ll have to tell Oikawa later.

Before that though, he wrangles Mattsun and Makki into helping him take extra notes for Oikawa. He gripes that a week’s worth of meat buns for each of them is extortion but he agrees because needs their aid if he doesn’t want to fall behind himself. They divide up the classes and exchange notes at the end of the day before afternoon practice.

The tense air from the morning has fully dissipated and aside from Yahaba and Watari getting extra setting practice in, there’s nothing all that different about practice overall. Iwaizumi notes with pride when Kyoutani slams a perfect set from Yahaba, their teamwork rapidly rising towards the synchronicity he and Oikawa have.

Well, maybe not quite. Mattsun is quick to point out that no other spiker-setter pair could ever come close to their weird telepathy thing.

“We do not have anything remotely like that,” Iwaizumi barks back, glowering at the middle blocker.

Makki materializes at Mattsun’s side. “Nope. Not at all. You guys never communicate with looks or sounds. Totally normal communication between bros.” He lifts his fist and Mattsun bumps it without taking his eyes off Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and marches back onto the court for serving practice. If he aims for his friends when he serves, well, they deserve it for being assholes.

Practice gets out early, or at least it seems early since Oikawa isn’t there to keep him late with extra practice, so he stops by the corner store on his way home. He isn’t sure if Oikawa is up to eating anything, but Iwaizumi knows he’ll still be grateful for a treat once he is recovered. He grabs a milk bread and a protein bar and a couple energy drinks for tomorrow before heading to Oikawa’s.

His mother answers the door wearing the same smile she’d had that morning. “Welcome home, Hajime. How was school?”

“It was fine.” He digs out the notes he and Mattsun and Makki had scanned and tucks them into the bag with the milk bread. “How’s Tooru feeling?”

“Oh, you know how he gets.” She sighs theatrically and Iwaizumi has never questioned where Oikawa gets it from. “He never gets sick so he’s rather pathetic. You should go up and see him yourself.”

The thought is tempting. He could probably get some quality blackmail material out of it. “Is he still sick?” He really does not want to catch whatever this thing is.

Oikawa-san waves a hand like she’s shooing an annoying bug. “He was through the worst of it this morning. He just needed to rest after his fever broke around lunch.” She eyes the bag in his hands and nods her head toward the stairs. “Go on. I think he’ll feel a lot better if you deliver those personally.”

Iwaizumi resigns himself to his fate. It’s not like he can say “no” to Oikawa’s mother. It’s also not like she’d put his health at risk if she thought her son was still contagious. He takes off his shoes and slips into the guest slippers. “I’ll do that, then,” he announces as if it was entirely his decision from the start.

The sight that greets him when he opens the door to the room he spends nearly as much of his life in as his own is exactly what Auntie described. Pathetic. Oikawa is huddled in a cocoon of blankets, his laptop propped on his knees as he watches the screen with bloodshot, glassy eyes. His cheeks have a light flush, which relieves some of Iwaizumi’s concern that his best friend is, in fact, in recovery mode. His head picks up slightly at the movement at his door and his eyes narrow querulously, as if he isn’t quite sure what he’s seeing is real. “Iwa-chan?” Even his voice is raspy and it tugs at Iwaizumi’s sensibilities.

He sets his backpack down at the door and brings the shopping bag with him as he makes his way to the edge of the futon. “You better not be watching game tape while you’re sick,” he admonishes with a gentle flick to the setter’s forehead.

Oikawa pouts and rubs the spot gingerly. “Mean, Iwa-chan. Where is your bedside manner? I’m dying here!”

Iwaizumi chuckles as he sits down next to him, smiling as he notices an animated film on the screen and not volleyball. He’s pretty sure it’s Howl’s Moving Castle. “Don’t be such a baby,” he says, not putting much of his usual scolding heat into it because Oikawa is still recovering after all.

“Babies would get more attention than me,” he whines, leaning back against the wall and setting the movie aside. “I slept all day and I’m still exhausted. I couldn’t even get out of bed this morning and everything aches and I missed practice.” He wilts. If there’s one thing Oikawa hates, it’s when his body won’t do what he wants it to, and being sick has rendered him useless and out of control of his own body. “My fangirls are going to forget about me and I’m going to fade away into nothing,” he sighs dramatically.

“You’re not gonna die from lack of attention, Shitykawa.”

“You don’t _know_ that, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t entertain that line of conversation for long. He changes the subject to the reason for his visit and offers the bag with the notes and the homework and the milk bread. Oikawa softens as he goes through the sheets. “Mattsun and Makki helped, so if there’s anything you can’t read, it’s their fault.” Oikawa laughs and Iwaizumi’s chest tightens. He really hopes he’s not already coming down with whatever Oikawa had.

“Iwa-chan really does care,” he coos, pulling out the milk bread with a triumphant grin.

“Don’t get used to it,” Iwa groans.

Oikawa asks about his day, how practice went, what gossip he missed out on. Iwaizumi has never been one to pay close attention to rumors about school so he doesn’t really have anything to share there, but he does go into plenty of detail about practice. He tells him about Yahaba’s growth and how seamlessly he fit into the lineup with the starters during a practice match in the afternoon. He talks for an hour, recounting all the drills and coach’s advice for their upcoming matches and the younger classmen’s shenanigans. He talks about how nice it was to leave practice while the sun was still up and remembers a cloud he had seen on his walk home. He’d taken a picture to show Oikawa because it had looked like a UFO and he knew his best friend would want to see it.

He flips open his phone to pull up his gallery, excited to share the weird image, when he realizes Oikawa isn’t paying attention. “Hey, Shittykawa, I said it looked like—” but Oikawa’s eyes are closed and his breathing is even, steady. Iwaizumi would be offended that Oikawa had been so bored by his stories that he’d fallen asleep, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

He gets up to leave, settling Oikawa down on his futon so he’ll sleep more comfortably. Before he can get far, a warm hand wraps slender fingers around his wrist, rooting him to the spot with an unspoken need. He turns to look back at his best friend, face flushed and eyes pleading. Iwaizumi hasn’t seen him this vulnerable since he wrecked his knee. The image tugs at something in the pit of his stomach, something he can’t quite put a name to. Then a soft voice leaves Oikawa’s lips. “Stay with me?”

Iwaizumi wants to go home. He has homework to do and he really does not want to get sick with whatever this bug is. He should go. It would be the responsible thing to do.

He sits back down and pulls Oikawa into his lap. “I’m here.” Oikawa sighs and closes his eyes again, drifting back to sleep. Iwaizumi idly cards his fingers though Oikawa’s hair, content to just listen to him breathe. The quiet in the room isn’t as loud as the quiet from his walk to school that morning and soon enough he follows his best friend into gentle slumber.

The next morning Oikawa is back to normal and they return to their regular routine. Iwaizumi grumbles about not getting enough sleep and his body aching all over. He chalks it up to the awkward position he’d spent the night in, but when it doesn’t go away by afternoon practice, he knows it’s too late. Goddamn Oikawa got him sick after all.

“Don’t be such a baby, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa teases him.

He headbutts the bastard while he still has the energy to do so.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, poor Iwaizumi. His best friend is gonna be the death of him one day, if he doesn't kill him first. xD
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this soft little thing. Please leave a kudos, comment, or come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anininjaspaz)!
> 
> I can't believe there's only one day left in this event. I'll have one final short and sweet fluffy piece for you tomorrow. Thanks for sticking with me this week!


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